


Experience XII

by padawanhilary, Telesilla



Series: Experience [12]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Kink, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-11
Updated: 2005-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:17:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padawanhilary/pseuds/padawanhilary, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LDR's (Long Distance Relationships) suck, but Liam and Orlando are doing their best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experience XII

When Orlando calls Liam the next day, he's more than a little nervous. He's not sure how Liam will want him, but after the whole thing with Jeremy, Orlando feels he really needs to show Liam that he knows who owns him, who he belongs to. So he takes his shower, dries off and then kneels naked by the bed, the headset in place as he dials Liam's number.

"This is Liam," Liam answers, but he's pretty sure he knows who's on the other end. He checks his watch--yes, the time's about right. He feels a bit of awkwardness about it, too, though, and wonders how Orlando will begin.

"It's me, Sir," Orlando says. "Is this a good time for you?"

God, awkwardness or no, Orlando's voice sounds good. "This is a fine time, boy," Liam says.

"I'm sorry," Orlando says, although he hadn't meant to apologize yet again. "Sorry about yesterday, Sir."

"Don't, Orlando," Liam sighs. "It's done." He doesn't want to talk about it anymore; he doesn't like that Orlando went in the first place, and in fact hates the idea that Jeremy had his boy, no matter how abortive the sex was. It makes Liam feel hot and angry in a way he hasn't felt in years, but talking about it isn't making that go away.

"Yes, Sir," Orlando says, his voice a little small. Jeremy had been cold to him all day, but nothing that Orlando or anyone else could point to as unprofessional, although Marton had asked Orli what had happened to change Jeremy's attitude so quickly. Orlando had laughed it off with the implication that he'd turned Jeremy down, but still, the whole thing had left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I'm not sure what to say, Orlando," Liam murmurs softly, and he has the absurd urge to apologize for whatever he did to make Orlando go in the first place. "Are you alright?"

"A little bruised but not battered," Orlando replies. "And that's mostly my pride. Aside from that? I'm kicking myself for screwing up, but we've been over that already."

"Yes, we have." Liam wishes he could look at Orlando and show him that he's not angry with him at least, no matter what he feels toward Jeremy. "You do believe me, don't you, when I tell you things are fine between us?"

"Yes Sir, I do," Orlando says truthfully. "I thought about it last night, about what I said about you being strict with me. I ... I really do think I need it, Sir." He pauses. "And that's not me telling you what to do, just that ... I don't want to screw up like that again."

"I've got some rules for you, come to that," Liam tells him. "The first one is that you're not to come at all without my permission. No tossing off, no sucking off, no sex. Clear?"

"Yes Sir," Orlando replies, squirming a little.

"Fine. When you are granted an orgasm, unless I make an exception, we're going to have rules in place for them. I'm sending you a package; you should receive it soon. We'll talk about that when it gets there--but what that will mean is that you're going to be aware of me, that you are _mine_ whenever you come. Clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Orlando repeats. "I like the way I feel when you say that, Sir."

"What's that?" Liam asks. "That you're mine?"

"Yeah," Orlando says. "It's just really hot, Sir," he adds. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of it."

"That's good, boy," Liam smiles, and growls deliberately, "Mine..."

"Yours, Sir," Orlando says. "Yours here, naked and on my knees."

"Are you?" Liam purrs, but it's a formality of a question. He knows, _knows_ Orlando's just as he describes: naked and on his knees. "Good boy."

"Thank you, Sir," Orlando says with a breathless little laugh. "Hard for you too, Sir."

"Hard, hm?" Liam closes his eyes to better imagine his boy. "You're hard because I'm telling you you're mine, and no one else is to touch you without my permission? Because I'm going to put stipulations on it whenever you come, from now on? Is that what's got you hard, my little slut?"

"God," Orlando breathes. "Yes, Sir. That and your voice." He thinks he could come from just hearing Liam's voice, but that would probably be a very foolish thing to say.

"How fast can you make yourself come, boy?" Liam asks, sounding as though it's just a curious, meaningless question.

"I'm not sure, Sir," Orlando says. "I've never timed it or anything, but I imagine I can be quite quick about it."

"You have a minute, boy," Liam says abruptly, "go. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight..."

Orlando doesn't exactly tune out Liam's voice, but he lets the cadence roll over him as he begins to pump his cock ruthlessly with one hand. He plays with the barbell in his still tender nipple as well, tugging at it and whimpering at the little shocks of pain that go through his body.

"Forty-eight," Liam says conversationally, after a pause, and goes quiet again, listening to Orlando work at his cock. He's hard, now, just hearing Orli's breathing and movement, but he can wait. "Forty-one. Forty. Thirty-nine."

"Ugnh," Orlando groans. "Yours," he says roughly, his hands both still busy. He's going to make it, he thinks; he can feel his whole body reaching for it.

"Mine," Liam agrees softly. "Thirty-two. Thirty-one. Thirty. God, I'd love to be fucking you right now, boy...nice and hard. Twenty-seven. Twenty six."

"Please," Orlando moans, not really sure what he's asking for. All he knows is that he's close and that he likes begging, that he'll beg even if Liam hasn't asked him to.

"Mmm, twenty-three. Close?"

"God ... yes, Sir ... please," Orlando murmurs, pinching down hard on his nipple. "Let me?"

"Come, boy," Liam orders, going utterly still so he can hear every single sound.

"Ahhh," Orlando gasps, his hips working hard as he thrusts once more into his hand before the orgasm slams into him hard. It's abrupt enough that it almost hurts, but as far as Orlando's concerned, that just makes it better.

Liam lets out a satisfied hum, stroking his fingers over the bulge in his jeans. "Good boy. God, you sound like a fucking dream."

"Jesus," Orlando mumbles, hunching over a little. "Thank you, Sir. Felt ... fucking good."

"Mm. Listen." Liam brings the receiver down to his crotch and slowly, slowly undoes the zip. "Hear that?" he breathes as he brings the phone back up. "I miss my boy's mouth."

"I wish I were there to use it on you, Sir," Orlando says, remembering how good it felt to lick Liam's jeans, how much he loves having that hard cock in his mouth.

"Such a good mouth...talented." Liam's stroking himself now, hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of Orlando sucking him. "And you're so eager for it, aren't you, slut?"

"I'd beg for it, Sir," Orlando says. "Put my face down at your feet and beg you to fuck my mouth. That's how eager I am for it."

A low groan escapes Liam's throat, and he works his hand a bit faster. He can see it, can almost _feel_ Orli's mouth tight around his cock, little moans and whimpers getting around the girth of it. "Keep talking, boy," he gets out, though his voice is shaky and not at all commanding anymore.

"I want to do it hard and fast, Sir," Orlando says. "I want to feel your hands in my hair, tugging me down over your cock. I want to choke on it, want to feel you taking my breath away, want you to use my mouth...."

"Oh--Christ," Liam gasps, curling up as he comes. His groans give way to harsh breaths, and then he's sinking back onto the bed, laughing at himself, at his stunning forgetfulness in the face of a phone call from his boy. "Jaysus, boy, I ruin more shirts this way."

"God," Orlando moans, thinking of the plain denim shirts Liam favors. "Is that one of the denim ones, Sir?" he asks, a plan forming in his mind.

"Yes," Liam says, puzzled. "Why?" He grunts quietly as he gets up off the bed to clean himself up.

"Um ... could you, please, sendittomesir?" Orlando asks, his face going red.

"Send it--?" Liam looks down at it, come-spattered and wrinkled. "Not like this--?"

"If you'd rather not, Sir," he says, feeling his face go hot and probably red as well.

Liam can hear the embarrassment in Orlando's voice, and he once again wishes they were in the room together so that Liam could hold him. "I'll send it however you like, boy. Should I wipe off the worst of it, or leave it alone to dry?"

"I don't really care if you clean it off a bit, i just ... I just want to be able to smell you, Sir." He pauses for a moment. "You don't think I'm weird?" he asks, not thinking about the irony of the question.

"No, Orlando," Liam says gently, even though he does catch the irony. "I don't think you're weird. I think you're a very devoted boy, and I'm glad you're mine."

"I'm glad I am too, Sir," Orlando says. "I love you."

That does something to Liam that he'd thought he was long past: it makes his stomach go all hot and nervous. "I love you, too, boy," he murmurs, almost a whisper.

Although Orlando hates to do this, he sighs and steels himself for it. "I should go Sir," he says, his reluctance obvious. "Early call tomorrow, Ridley wants some sunrise stuff."

"Mm," Liam sighs. He doesn't want to leave this tenuous connection, either. "Sleep well, boy. Ring me when the package comes."

"Yes, Sir," Orlando says. "I will, Sir. Good night."

"Good night, Orlando." Liam rings off, then sighs, feeling strangely lonely and tired.

 

* * *

Orlando has been thinking about the package all afternoon. It had been delivered to the hotel in the morning and the desk had called asking him what he wanted done with it.

Knowing it was from Liam and that he couldn't open it until he called Liam that night had been driving Orlando crazy. The fact that both Marton and Brenden have been keeping an eye on him amuses him. Particularly Brenden; it seems that Liam had a chat with his old friend. It makes Orlando feel more like he belongs to Liam, like he's a valuable piece of property that needs looking after.

Finally -- way too late for Orlando's taste -- he can go up to his room and call Liam. He strips down before getting out his phone's headset and then kneeling by the bed with the package in front of him. Only after a moment spent getting himself into the place where he's Liam's boy, he dials Liam up.

Liam's been expecting this call and has in fact told everyone on _Batman_ he'd be unavailable out all night. He's been tracking the package and has been looking forward to its opening perhaps as much as Orlando has. "Hello, boy," he purrs into the phone. "Following orders?"

"Yes Sir," Orlando says. "Naked and kneeling for you, Sir."

"Good boy. Open the box." Liam shifts on the bed, crossing his ankles and resting his hand almost casually on his thigh. He's half-hard just thinking of Orlando's reactions to the gifts he sent.

"Yes Sir," Orlando says. "I love pressies," he adds, grinning as he opens the big flat FedEx box. The first thing he pulls out is a slightly lumpy package wrapped in plain tissue paper. Unfolding it reveals a pair of nipple clams with broad jaws and screws to adjust them. "Clamps," he says with a grin. "Thank you Sir."

"Put them on." Liam's voice is soft, now, almost inquisitive. He wants to hear the little breathy noises Orlando makes when the clamps go on.

Testing them on his finger first, Orlando tightens them up a bit and then puts the first one on. "Oh," he says, realizing that in addition to the pinch, the sheer weight of the clamps themselves add to the sensation. "Pinches, Sir," he adds before putting the second one on.

"Give them a tug," Liam says; it comes out like a light suggestion.

"Yes, Sir," Orlando says with a little gasp as he obeys. "Oh ... that's good, Sir."

"Very," Liam agrees quietly. "Alright, go on and open the next one.

The next one is a plug, a medium sized black soft plug that has Orlando cracking a wide smile. "It's a very nice plug, sir," he says demurely. "If a little smaller than what I've grown used to."

"Flattery, hm," Liam teases. "You trying to rack up points for the next time you get into trouble?"

"No, Sir, just telling the truth," Orlando says with a little laugh. He looks at the plug. "Please Sir? May I put this in?"

"Yes, boy. Do that, and let me hear you." Liam's wondering if it's possible for this boy to get any more perfect. They've had their rough spots, to be sure, but Christ. It's so good. It feels so solid. Liam's been toying, now, with the idea of taking it a step further and wondering if it's too soon for that.

Grabbing the lube off the nightstand, Orlando lubes up the plug. "Would you like me to prep myself, Sir?" he asks, looking at the plug thoughtfully. "Or just push it in?"

"Can you just push it in?" Liam asks, curious. "Do that, if you can manage it." He can imagine the feel of pushing into Orlando, tight after little or no preparation, and it makes him sigh almost impatiently.

The toy's got a fair amount of taper and Orli's been fucked with no prep by cocks bigger than the plug and so he reaches back and begins slowly pushing it up into his arse. It's more than a little embarrassing, not that he can actually take it, but that he's letting out soft little grunts and whispers that he knows are being picked up perfectly by the phone.

Liam waits for that telltale hitch in breathing, and then he smiles. "God, boy, you are sexy as all hell. How does it feel?"

"Burns," Orlando moans as the widest part stretches him open. "In a good way ... oh God .. sir." He pauses panting. "Got it in, Sir."

"Good," Liam breathes. He can imagine Orlando, kneeling, arched just a bit, hands on his thighs, with the chain of the clamps shivering against his chest. "Take the last bit out of the box, now."

The next thing out of the box is a pair of red votives in plain glass holders and Orlando stares at them for a moment. "Sir? Candles?"

"Have you ever tipped a candle over onto your hand by mistake, Orlando?" Liam asks. "Do you know what that feels like?"

"Oh," Orlando says softly. "Yes, Sir, I have." He looks at the candles. "Never thought of doing it on purpose before." He feels a just a bit naive, but that's not as important as the feeling of curiosity.

"Remember how hot it felt at first, and then how the heat stayed if you didn't get the wax off right away?" Liam pauses to let his words sink in. "Imagine that inside your wrist. Or your thigh." He smiles; he's sure Orlando can hear it in his voice. "Light the candles, boy."

"Yes, Sir," Orlando murmurs. "Sir," he adds, reaching for his lighter. "There are some times when I think I could just come from the sound of your voice."

Lighting one candle, he looks at it and then smiles. "Where do you want me to put the wax, Sir?"

"Let them sit a minute. Go and get some paper to put down, first." As he hears Orlando moving about, he murmurs, "Do you _want_ to be able to come to the sound of my voice?"

"Yes Sir," Orlando says, his voice a little breathless as his movement cause the plug to shift or the chain on the clamps to move. "I don't think it would be very hard with all these things on me. And in me, Sir." A moment later, he's kneeling on several spread out sheets of newspaper. "Ready Sir," he says, picking up the votive again.

"We're going to start on the inside of your wrist," Liam murmurs, and now he's pitching his voice in just that way that makes Orlando whimper. "And we're going to see if you can come just like this. Do not touch yourself. Clear?"

"Clear, Sir," Orlando says, his whole body shuddering in a way that has nothing to do with the outside stimulation and everything to do with Liam's voice. He tilts the candle carefully above his wrist, watching as the wax pools at one edge of the votive and then drips down to land on his skin.

It's more warm than hot and he sighs a little at it. "Feels nice, Sir, but not too painful."

"How far above your wrist was the candle when you poured?"

"About a foot, Sir," Orlando says. "Should I try it closer?"

"Yes. Try about six or eight inches, this time." Liam's noting Orlando's reactions, making mental reference points for next time. The boy's got a good pain tolerance, that's sure, and Liam loves that about him.

Gauging the distance roughly, Orlando settles for what he thinks is six inches and lets the wax fall. This time it's much warmer, almost on the edge of painful. "Please sir," he says. "That was a lot warmer, but may I try lower, please?"

"Slut," Liam murmurs, and if he were there, he'd be petting the boy indulgently. "Yes. Go lower. Test it until you find what hurts."

Orlando brings the candle even closer and now.... "Oh God, Sir," he moans, feeling the heat from the wax and then the residual heat as it clings to his skin. "Feels so good," he adds, his muscles tightening around the plug in response to the feeling.

"When you run out of melted wax," Liam tells him, "switch candles, hm? Start running the wax higher along your arm." Now, he's working not to display how well Orlando's moans work on him. God, the boy's voice is an aphrodisiac in itself.

Orlando just keeps giving Liam those moans, his whole body shaking as he drips wax up his arm. "So brilliant, Sir," he says. "God ... hurts but it's such a damn good hurt..."

"Good," Liam manages to say casually. "Start on the other wrist." He cups the bulge in his jeans and kneads it, keeping silent as he does so.

The wax on his skin cracks and a few pieces flake off as Orli switches hands. He has to stop when he gets close to the inside of his elbow. "Please Sir," he whimpers. "Please ... I feel like I'm close Sir."

"You hang on, boy," Liam growls. "You don't come unless I tell you to." He gives Orlando a breath or two before he goes on. "Start inside one thigh, slut. Tell me how it feels to hurt for me, with the plug inside you--you need a bigger plug, don't you, boy?" Liam makes his voice go sharp and cold at once. "Tighten those clamps, boy, _right now._"

"Oh ... oh fuck ... yes Sir," Orlando says putting the candle down quickly. The first clamp makes him whimper, but he can't help crying out louder as he tightens the second clamp. "What a bigger plug, yes, Sir," he says. "Want one as big as your cock...."

"I'll see that you get one, then," Liam murmurs. "Shaped just like me, hm? With a taper and a ridge so you can keep it in you all evening. And you'd do it, wouldn't you, boy? And then fuck yourself with it after."

"God yes," Orlando moans, his breath hitching in his chest. "I .. please can I use the candle now? Thinking of that ... oh God, please?"

"Inside your right thigh, boy," Liam instructs, and waits for the hissing moan that follows before he continues. "As we do this, you'll need less and less to come, and before long, I'll just be able to order it. Think of it, Orlando. 'Come,'" he growls, "and you'd come for me."

"Please... fuck, please Sir," Orlando says. "Need it ...begging you for it, Sir." His words are broken by soft hisses and gasps as the wax lands on his thighs, each point of pain blooming like a small flower.

"Do the other thigh," Liam almost whispers, "and let me know when you're finished. I might let you come then." And God, the idea that his boy could come like that, on command, without help...a groan gets out of Liam's throat unbidden.

"Hard, Sir," Orlando moans. "I'm ... God oh God ... trying for you, Sir," he adds. It's so hard not to rush it, but just as hard not to drag it out; he could so easily come right here, right now.

"I'm fucking you, boy," Liam breathes, "and I'm hurting you. You've been so good, and now you're going to get to come. Do it for me, Orlando, come. Come right now because I told you to, boy, _now._"

Liam's words combine with a large splash of wax that runs down the inside of Orlando's thigh. With a strangled yell that Liam could probably hear without the phone, Orlando comes, his whole body arching with the strength of it.

Liam doesn't mind the sounds, now; he doesn't mind showing that this affects him this strongly. He's breathing harshly into the phone, and he's reached into his slacks to stroke himself off. "Christ, boy," he whispers, "you could make a straight saint bent." And when he comes, he's arching up off his bed, groaning and shuddering with the strength of it and then panting his way down, more than happy to let his boy know _he_ did that.

The orgasm was good, the praise is better, and knowing that _he_ did that to Liam is fucking amazing. Orlando's not sure he should be so proud -- something he should talk to Liam about at some point -- but he is, damn proud. "Thank you, Sir," he says, not sure if he's thanking Liam for his own orgasm or for Liam's. _Both maybe._

Liam lets out a slow sigh. "You're welcome, boy," he murmurs. He catches his breath a moment and then manages to remember the rest of the instructions: "Take the clamps off. Take the plug out. Get under a blanket, boy." He administers these instructions as he hears Orlando following through, and it's as though he were there, they mesh so well. They fit. Liam's found a boy, and he feels it so keenly now.

"Yes, Sir," Orlando says, tiredly. But it's a good tired, and he only yelps a little when the clamps come off. After the plug is out, he half heartedly scrapes the wax off as he cleans himself a bit. Reminding himself to leave a larger than normal tip for the hotel maid in the morning, he settles into bed with a happy little sigh.

"Soon, boy," Liam murmurs. "I'll be there, and I'll be shagging you into the bed. I'm not going to let you go." Liam's full aware that can be misconstrued, but he's not sure he cares. Maybe he wants it to be.

"I don't want you to let me go, Sir," Orlando replies. "I want to be yours forever." It doesn't matter -- here in this sleepy, quiet space when all he has is Liam's voice coming from far away -- that Orlando thinks he sounds a little too much like a romance novel. Liam will understand and won't think Orlando's being too girly.

"You will be," Liam murmurs. He isn't sure he believes it, God knows there are enough cases of forever that turn into nothing. He wants to, though, and that deserves a little honesty. "I want you to be," he corrects, hoping Orlando catches the distinction.

"Then it's alright for me to think like this?" Orlando asks. He hesitates for a moment before continuing. "Please, can we be out of the scene and the roles now?"

"Yes, boy. We're out of the scene." Liam's willing to wait, to sit on the idea that these are not roles for him but ways of being. He doesn't want to get into that now. "It's alright for you to think like this."

"I just want you to know that it's everything about you, Liam," Orlando says. "And I think I'm learning that being a top, being my top is a part of you, but ... I like the rest of it too. And I want to be with you. I would even if we didn't do this." He's feeling like a real idiot now, but it also feels good to let Liam know all this. _If it's what you feel then it's not idiotic to talk about it._ Not too surprisingly the thought sounds a little like Viggo in his head.

"I'm in love with you, boy," Liam murmurs, "and I love you. And I like you. You're brilliant, and I want you. And that's never going to change."

No one's ever made me feel like you make me feel," Orlando says. "And it's not just the sex either, it's ... God I'm no good at this. You'll be here next week, right?"

"I'll be there next week," Liam smiles.

* * *

Liam's fresh out of the shower, still damp, hair just-toweled, when he dials Orlando's number. He settles on the bed, idly running his fingertips up and down his half-hard cock, anticipating the sound of his boy's voice. It's not often he feels such a keen sense of wanting when he's on set--and not on set with someone he's shagging--but today, there was something particularly alluring in the training sequences, and all Liam could think about was Orlando, wielding a sword with that easy grace of his. It's an odd thing to get worked up over, but very well worth a phone call.

Orlando's in the elevator when his phone goes off. "Sir," he says, glad he's alone in the elevator and can call Liam "sir" without people looking at him weirdly.

"Get naked, boy," Liam says immediately, keeping his voice pitched low. It's not much good trying to sound dangerous, though; he's smiling, and he knows Orlando must hear it.

"Um, in the elevator, Sir?" Orlando asks. He can, in fact, hear the smile in Liam's voice and knows he can get away with being just a little cheeky.

"Oh--" Liam has to laugh at himself a little. "No, not in the elevator, then. Are you coming in, or going out?"

"Coming in, Sir," Orlando says as the elevator pings and the doors open at his floor. "Went out for dinner with Marton," he adds, pulling out his key card.

"Oh, how was that, then?" Liam leaves his hand still over his erection; this is a bit ridiculous, how hard he is over mundane things, but just hearing Orlando's voice is adding to it, now.

"Nice," Orlando says. "We had couscous and lamb, was good." He frowns a little at the phone. "Can you hold on, Sir? While I get the headset on? Then I can get undressed and still talk to you."

"Yes, go on." Liam gives his cock a squeeze as if to placate the brainless thing.

Fumbling just a little in his haste, Orlando finally gets the headset plugged into the phone. "Back, Sir," he says, really wishing they didn't have to do this. He'd taken his tee shirt off at the same time and now he unzips his jeans. "Getting naked for you, Sir."

"Good boy."

In a matter of seconds, Orlando is fully naked and kneeling. "I'm on my knees for you, Sir," he says, amazed that just positioning himself is enough to get him hard.

"Good," Liam rumbles. "Was thinking about you today, boy, during the training bits." He finds himself flushing warmly; he hasn't gotten hard over something like this in a long time.

"Were you, Sir?" Orlando asks. "I think about you all the time," he admits.

"This was a little different," Liam admits. "Bale did something, a parry, and then...well, it's odd, see. After that, all I could think about was you, doing those complicated swordfighting techniques from _Pirates._" He clears his throat. "Or the knifework from _Rings._"

"Oh really?" Orlando says. "That's pretty high praise, coming from you, Sir." Orlando had been utterly impressed with the way Liam had needed nothing more than a quick refresher course before he was able to pick up a sword and go to town. To be honest that was one of the first times Orli had really noticed just how amazingly physical Liam was.

"Any road, you've been very much in my head all day, boy," Liam murmurs, "and that's why I rang. I want you."

"You have me, Sir," Orlando says. "Naked, on my knees and hard for you."

"Play with the piercing, boy," Liam orders quietly, "and let me hear you." He closes his eyes to imagine it, Orlando's fingers twisting and flicking the little silver barbell.

"Yes, Sir," Orlando says, reaching up to play with the barbell. His nipple is still tender and just the lightest touch is enough to get him moaning.

"There," Liam breathes, and now he's stroking himself slowly. "Been looking forward to this all day, boy." He thinks a moment, just listening to Orlando's breaths, and then orders, "Scratch yourself. Inside of your thighs."

"Ohh," Orlando says, reaching down and dragging his nails along the insides of this thighs. "Hurts, Sir," he adds, whimpering a little.

"Yes," Liam hisses, hand moving a bit faster. "Do it again, and start stroking yourself. Slowly."

"Yes, Sir," Orlando replies as he obeys. "God, so good Sir." And it is. Not as good as if Liam were here, but still, pretty amazing to be kneeling here, marking himself up for Liam.

As eager as Liam was to begin the phone call, he's quite content to let it go on for a long time. He continues to give Orlando his orders--scratch, twist, pull, stroke--until he's close himself. Orlando is young, and Liam is grateful in a quietly sadistic way that if he's struggling for composure, Orlando's dying for it.

It's sheer bloody torture, and Orlando loves every minute of it. It's amazing really, how he can feel so utterly and thoroughly owned even while he's just on the phone. It's also amazing how much he can feel like he's going to come at any minute, only to be pulled back by his own need to be good for Liam.

"Close, Sir," he gasps for what feels like the hundredth time.

"With me, boy," Liam gets out, "now--" and his hand is a blur on his cock as he comes hard, listening intently for Orlando's orgasm over the phone.

"Fuck," Orlando grunts as he comes, his nails digging so hard into the sensitive skin of his thighs that he breaks the skin.

Liam pants a moment, coming down from the surprising strength of the orgasm. "Christ, boy," he groans, shifting farther down on the bed so he can lie flat.

"God, Sir," Orlando echoes, leaning back against the bed. "Bloody brilliant."

"Yes, it was." Liam remembered to set towels by the bed, at least, but he's too boneless to reach for one, now. "Been waiting for that all day."

"God me too, Sir" Orlando says. "Wow," he adds, looking down at his thigh. "I broke the skin. Made myself bleed for you, Sir."

"Mm." Liam finally curls up and leans over for a towel, sighing contentedly as he mops himself dry. "And how's that piercing healing?" he asks, and immediately adds, "You _like_ bleeding for me, don't you."

"It's healing up fine, Sir" Orlando says with a broad grin. "Ridley was a little annoyed with you ... well with me, really I never told him who did it." Not that Orlando had to tell Ridley; the director is nothing if not observant.

"And yes, Sir," Orlando adds quickly. "I love bleeding for you."

"Make sure you take care of those scratches," Liam says quietly. If he were there, he'd be doing it himself. He sighs; he'd forgotten how difficult it can be to take care of a boy over a long distance.

"Yes, Sir," Orlando says, feeling a little warm inside. "I'll use the surgical soap I'm using on the piercing."

"Good boy." That's satisfying, that Orlando is taking him seriously, and it would never cross Liam's mind that Orlando won't do what he says he will--even now. Even after Jeremy. Liam doesn't know if that speaks to his strong sense of forgiveness or to his stupidity, but he can't help trusting this boy.

"You know something, Sir?" Orlando says. "'Good boy' from you makes me feel as good as 'I love you.'"

_That's why I trust him,_ Liam nods to himself. "I'm glad," he says aloud, "because it makes me feel good to say it. I like rewarding you, and I'm really looking forward to being there again so I can do it in person."

"Can't wait, Sir," Orlando says. He wants to add something like "wish you were here now" but it strikes him as whiny, not to mention that he figures it's obvious in every word he says.

"Tomorrow," Liam murmurs, "once you've come in and showered, I want you to use the dildo on yourself. I want you to bring yourself close to orgasm and stop--and I want you to do it three times before you bring yourself off. Then, I want you to write down what you were thinking as you did it. A letter to me. Clear?"

"Oh God," Orlando murmurs, squirming just from thinking of it. "Um, only one thing, Sir," he says. "I'm not trying to get out of it or anything, but ... I'm not the world's best letter writing. Just wanted to warn you."

"I don't mind. Make a list, if you like. However suits you. I just want to know what your thoughts are during the exercise."

"Yes, Sir," Orlando says with a smile. As long as Liam knows that he's not going to get great literature, he's more than happy to do as he's told. _Even if all I manage to think is 'God, this is fucking hot.'_

"And after that...I'll see you soon." Just that knowledge alone pleases Liam a great deal. He's feeling a need to lay a proper claim and erase the thought of that fucking _snake_ all over his boy.

"Yeah," Orlando says, sighing as he stands up. "Guess I need another shower before bed, Sir," he adds, his smirk audible in his voice.

"When I get there," Liam growls deliberately, "you're going to spend most of your time either tied down, draped over my lap, or recovering from your aches and pains in the bath." He lowers his voice to a seductive purr, the one he knows could damn near get Orlando off. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"As long as it doesn't get in the way of the job, Sir," Orlando says and then regrets his words right away. "I'm sorry; of course it's not a problem."

Liam doesn't like the implication that he'd allow this, even this, to interfere with work. He tenses a bit with it, pulling in a slow breath. _Am I that involved with this that I'm jeopardizing the work?_ he wonders, and then he's questioning the rest of his motivations as well: is he too easy on the boy? Is he getting too involved with all of this to hang onto his head?

"It won't," he says quietly, "get in the way of the job."

"It's not...." Orlando begins and then sighs. "Yes, Sir."

"I'll see you soon, then, boy," Liam murmurs. He says that a lot; sometimes it feels as though he's reassuring himself. "You do that tomorrow, and then we'll talk about it."

"Yes, Sir," Orlando replies, wondering if he somehow upset Liam. _I was just trying to let him know that I'm trying to be professional._ "I'll send you an email tomorrow, Sir."

"Good boy." Liam pulls in a slow breath. He's got some thinking to do. "Get as much rest as you can," he adds. "Goodnight, Orlando."

"Love you, Liam," Orlando says softly before closing his phone. _What exactly,_ he wonders, _was that about?_

 

tbc


End file.
